Star Wars Imperial Center

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away?

"Men in general judge more by the sense of sight than by the sense of touch, because everyone can see, but only a few can test by feeling. Everyone sees what you seem to be, few know what you really are, and those few do not dare take a stand against the general opinion.? - Niccolo Machiavelli

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Watching her youngest son pack his datapad into his satchel, cinch up the buttons on his fancy school uniform, and scurry towards the press of other kids entering as the bell rang to signal the beginning of the first morning class, the smuggler was reminded of why she and her husband did what they did. It had been worth the resistance from their employers, it had been worth the move to the upper city, it had been worth convincing all the muscle that No, they were not trying to move up in the syndicates or start their own. They were fine with their positions?but she and her bounty hunter husband wanted more out of life. And they wanted better for their kids. And what was wrong with that?

She pulled her own datapad from her own satchel, and the same sinking settled on her as she read through jobs. They?d make it out one day, but for now the regret kept her grounded. It gave her something to aspire to. The Empire hadn't made things better - it was harder to get work of any kind in the galaxy, but with these Imperials weren't as soft on illegal activity as the Republic had been. Things were dicey out there. It was harder to lay low, and harder to stay alive...and it was said that you were better off dead than captured.

A particular listing stood out to her. The most lucrative jobs were the ones with no details mentioned, where you had to have meetings to exchange information. They were also the ones with the most at stake, and the most to lose. And one of them was glaring at her, red and angry, and strangely tempting.

Oh well. Tuition was due again in a few months.

* * * *
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A new day dawned on Imperial Center, a world the Senator had known as Coruscant since his childhood and, for ten years now, had been fighting to call by its new name. A slip of the tongue at the wrong moment would be most unfortunate, and the Senator was anything but unfortunate, which was not exactly to say he was lucky. It was said that the gods helped those who helped themselves. It was said that fortune favored the bold. It was said that luck was preparation plus opportunity. All of this, of course, was to say that there was no such thing as luck at all. The senator had not gotten himself to where he was today by chance, oh no, he had built his life and he prided himself on what he was able to give his family. People respected that; hell, they had elected him for it.

As he looked past the mementos of his family at the cityscape emerging before the amber haze of early morning, he made sure to look at it with clear eyes, as one of his constituents might. If he didn?t stay vigilant, he would become jaded. No matter the actions he took to preserve his office and his image, he reminded himself darkly, it was only a problem when you became jaded. That?s how you became a monster, that?s how you became like the rest of Corusc?Imperial Center. When the necessities stopped bothering you.

And there were always?necessities. The trick in upward climbing was not falling backwards. He sat down in the plush chair amongst all his plush surroundings, and looked up at the sky to where, were it nighttime and all the city lights extinguished, he might see his homeworld?s star. The senate was losing ground, and senators were losing influence. And this Moff?this man who had made a home on his world like a parasite?this Moff would be dealt with. He?d already put out the listing ? no details, just a price.

The Senator could not just sit around and wait,

 

OOC: I have something of an interest in reviving this project. Do we think we might get more mileage out of focusing solely on the Imperial family and their connections?

 

Yes.

 

OOC: So be it.

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[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yU7sUENatUU&feature=related][i]A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away?[/i][/link]

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With a rush, the ILH-KK [i]Citadel[/i]-class civilian cruiser [i]Stella Noir[/i] reverted to realspace above the bright center of the galaxy. The planet loomed in the front viewport, glittering in its sun?s light. 4G-RA-7, seated near the bridge and having just powered back up from his energy saving mode, consulted the Basic dictionary.

[blockquote]CORUSCANT ? 1) sparkling or gleaming; scintillating; coruscating; 2) the former name of the sixth planet in the Coruscant system of the Core Worlds Region, having served as the capital of galactic government since the founding of the Galactic Republic. See: Imperial Center.[/blockquote]

From this vantage point, though, it was easy to see how the ancients had chosen the planet?s name; it glittered like a jewel in the light of its star.

The pilots went through all the compulsory measures ? communicating with Imperial Center traffic control, locating the coordinates of an available landing bay, etcetera ? but 4G-RA-7 had his own routine for the end of these trips. His joints whirred into motion as he ambulated through the corridors of his master?s personal vessel, over the debris ? bottles, glasses, used deathsticks, items of clothing ? of the night before. His master?s quarters were locked, but Forgee knew how to bypass the security measures; in fact, he had become convinced that the master wasn?t actually trying too hard to keep him out. When the door hissed open, the droid could see that the two Twi?lek girls were already awake and dressing (other members of his retinue had no doubt found other nooks to inhabit), but in the dimmed light, Dean Harbright was still fast asleep and fully dressed, splayed out on his cot. Remotely, Forgee began the showers and set the machinations of breakfast in motion in the mess, even as he entered the room and bent low to rouse his slumbering and still intoxicated master.

They were home.

* * * *

Inquisitor Marlowe made his way through the halls of the Imperial Internal Organization Bureau, his red zeyd-cloth robe sweeping behind him, his stark white ceremonial armor a contrast to his dark skin. The man?s full lips and eyebrows were screwed up as he took in his surroundings, and more importantly, the people that occupied them. It was not completely unheard of for an Inquisitor to be seen in the offices of another subdivision of Imperial Intelligence, but it was certainly unusual. And the Inquisitorius carried with it such an air of mystery and danger that the men were given wide berths. It was said they wielded the same power Lord Vader had, the power the renegade Jedi had, but that the Inqusitors used it for law and order and not terror, for the good of the Empire rather than its overthrow. All of this filled the workers with wonder and fear, and a great deal of respect. Marlowe did his best to appear affable, even as he took pleasure in the waves of their emotions, unable to keep a certain self satisfied bounce from his stride.

Marlowe finally came to the office of Arvek Harbright, and activated the door chime. When the door slid open, he saw the man seated at his desk with a bottle of expensive looking whiskey. The Inquisitor leaned against the doorframe. ?Careful with that stuff, Arvek, it?ll kill you.? He grinned somewhat sadly. ?I came by to offer my condolences. We can only hope that your brother?s death will bring about a time of solidarity on your homeworld. After all, Bluth was a man admired of all on Salliche, even the terrorists.?

He stood up straight. ?When is the ceremony??

* * * *

It had been just a week and a half since celebrating Spencer?s birthday. He would have been?how old, now? Thirty-two. The oldest of Selnia?s brothers, taken from her parents by a congenital defect soon after being born, would have celebrated his thirty-second birthday

 

Dean Harbright
Coruscant Orbit

Dean opened his eyes to darkness. His entire body ached, but it was a dull, throbbing feeling with which he was quite familiar. He rolled over and the bright lights in his chamber temporarily blinded him, and sent shockwaves of pain through his retinas. He screwed his eyes shut and groggily reached for his chrono. Without finding it, he stumbled on a breakfast bar that was sitting amidst ashed and burning deathstick ends. He shoved the morsel in his mouth and chewed on it for a brief moment, before roughly swallowing. Dean rolled slowly to his feet, stumbling over strewn clothes, before catching himself. He realized that he was still fully dressed and stripped down, and then entered the refresher.

-

Now fully awake, but still extremely hungover, Dean made his way to the bridge, where he discovered that they were entering the Coruscanti atmostphere. Dressed in his best suit, Dean looked the part of a former senator?s son, despite the massive bags under his eyes and the polished stubble on his face. Last night aside, this was the most solemn that Dean had been in months. His father, whom he had always hated and fought with, had finally died. Dean wasn?t sure how to feel.

He discarded the thought for the time being, and looked at 4G, who was staring at the planet as Dean had been. ?Do you think you could get a droid to clear my chamber of last night?s evidence, Gee??

Tag: Matty

 

Over Coruscant...

If droids could chuckle, Forgee would now hearing his master's groggy imploration. The young man was very nearly polished, with rough edges about his face belying his previous night aboard the ship. As something of a protocol droid, Forgee was programmed with a moderate understanding of human psychology, and knew that, in a very real way, Dean's apparent mirth was a compensation, that when faced with difficult emotional situations he retreated into harmful merrymaking and pleasure seeking.

It was a cycle the droid had grown accustomed to. "Of course, Master. I have already initiated the protocols. Perhaps it would be best if your friends began making contact with their accommodations on Imperial Center. And, if I may, Master, perhaps it would behoove you to contact your sister."

With that, the droid turned away from the man and set about his other duties.

TAG: Nick

 

IC: Arvek Harbright
Arvek Harbright's Office, Internal Organization Bureau Headquarters, Coruscant

He had been up all night seeing to reports from IntOrg?s Counter Intelligence Bureau coming in from his family?s homeworld. Salliche was as big a powder keg of dissent as ever, but since his brother?s death Arvek was ramping up security to help ensure a smooth transition to the planetary representation of his niece, Selnia.

Having been less fond of Bluth Harbright than most, Arvek had chosen a path within the New Order essentially opposite that of his brother. While the patriarchs of House Harbright had always preached service to the people of the galaxy and that of the Republic, the now middle-aged IntOrg officer had made the decision to serve the Empire totally. He had chosen security over freedom, and in turn made himself an instrument of that security; leading by example. It had made sense to him then and the fruits of prosperity could be seen everywhere: the Empire was stronger than ever, and his position within it secure. However now that his yin was unaccompanied by Bluth?s yang, he admittedly missed the old do-gooder.

A quick word from one of his stimcaf-bearing subordinates indicated that a member of Inquisitorious, Marlowe, was on his way, snapping him from his musing. Exactly what I need right now, he said half aloud after downing the caf in one gulp as the man left the room. Standing and allowing a stretch while gazing out his office window at the cityscape, Arvek produced with a small wooden cask from within his desk and poured a snifter to three fingers of Coromon Whiskey. He sat just as the Inquisitor walked through the door, leaning against the frame.

?Careful with that stuff, Arvek, it?ll kill you. I came by to offer my condolences. We can only hope that your brother?s death will bring about a time of solidarity on your homeworld. After all, Bluth was a man admired of all on Salliche, even the terrorists. When is the ceremony??

The robed agent had clearly intended to get a rise out of him. ?Condescension?s nothing new, Marlowe,? he said with a wry smirk while pulling down half the glass without so much as a blink. ?I brought this out because I was told my favorite Inquisitor was on his way. I?d offer, but you haven?t been seeing to the internal affairs of that planet all night.?

Lifting the engraved snifter to his mouth again, he finished the rest only slightly slower than before. The whiskey?s nearly prohibitive price warranted at least a passing taste - and it gave him time to pull forth an offering of thanks. ?Noted. I am truly sorry he?s gone. I can only hope our agents on Salliche will be adequate in keeping the unions from dissenting after the mourning is over.? Arvek deactivated his desk?s holographic user interface and proceeded to don a long wool officer?s topcoat. ?The event is a little later in the day. What of the Emperor? I?ve heard little from his offices.?

TAG: BobaMatt

 

IntOrg Headquarters, Coruscant...

Marlowe politely declined the drink as he took a few steps into Harbright's office. Harbright, however, was putting on his coat to leave. "The Emperor, as I understand it, will be in attendance. Your family still garners the respect it did under the Republic. You should be pleased: it's quite an honor that His Imperial Majesty bestows upon your brother and your House. I'll be there, but that's because you and I are such great friends. I would offer to buy you a drink, but I see you're one step ahead of me."

Marlowe followed after Harbright as he left the office. The two strode down the corridor together.

TAG: BLemelisk

 

OOC: Worth a shot...

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[i]Plaza, Coruscant...[/i]

[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XHxTC2NVYaE]The ceremony began in the evening, when the lights of Imperial Center were twinkling to life and casting their glow upon the night sky.[/link]
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Holocams hovered over the crowd, fairylike amidst the decor and the pomp, and broadcast the ceremony to the galaxy. It would receive local coverage, no doubt, and mention on other worlds, but Salliche would be mourning and wishing that the ceremony had occurred at home. There would be a separate one there, but such had been the Republic and now the Empire that planetary representatives often regarded the capital more as home than the wells from which their blood sprang. Most of the Senate was either directly in attendance or watching via satellite, divided on either side of the Avenue of the Core Founders. The roster of speakers was impressive - including His Imperial Majesty, Palpatine.

A hush came over the crowd as Senate Guards poured out of the Senate Building's main entrance and took up their formation, their commander shouting orders that reverberated off durasteel. Kybuck mounted special officers followed the marching guards down the avenue, as well as members of the local Salliche militias, and beautiful, well manicured beasts pulled the coffin on its suspensors. Behind it Dean and his Sister walked with other members of the family. Dean would speak first, followed by his sister, then those who knew him, and finally the Emperor himself. Now was not the time to rehearse speeches or to worry about appearances. There were so few opportunities for politicians in the galaxy to drop pretense, but now, with the death of their father, the Harbright's had earned a chance to grieve. And yet so many eyes rested upon them, waiting, wondering. Selnia was so young, and the gossip holos spoke of Dean's behavior. And what of the rebel movements on Salliche? Much turned on this funeral ceremony.

The assembly hall at the end of the avenue drew closer, closer, ever closer, and the crowds never thinned all along the avenue. High above on a hovering platform the Emperor sat on a throne, surrounded by his advisers and the ominous Lord Vader. What would his Majesty have to say? It was of no consequence now. [i]No, stay in the now.[/i] Scheming was for later - even the appearance of scheming would be unbecoming. At their father's funeral, it was in the political best interest of the Harbright heirs to appear to be nothing but stoic.

The assembly hall swallowed them, and their father's casket was brought to its resting place. Dean was ushered away from the group as the crowd filtered in - hovercams floated here, too, to show all those who could not fit into the chamber on huge screens what was happening within. The hovercams were everpresent for the likes of Dean and Selnia. Dean was shown the pulpit. He was not even sure where his sister had decided to sit.

[b]TAG: Jello, Blubeast, BLemelisk, Nick[/b]

 

Orville Larky.
-Funeral

Orville took a look at the sky. That. Or he had just rolled his eyes. He was bored and he was literally here for appearances only. His father was seated beside him, his hands folded over each other with a steely expression on his face. No emotions. Orville did not risk looking at him too long. He had been told to focus on the ceremony and to make notes of the political figures he saw because th would likely be having dealings with them in the near future.

The presence of the Lord Vader and the Emperor kind of hit home for Orville how important the Senator had been. Or maybe this was a standard thing for the deaths of high political figures. This was his first outing among people that he had only seen over the holonet. He was here for appearances because his father was getting older. He was still sharp, but he had told Orville that he had grown tired with politics and wanted to focus on the business aspect of their company. Orville would become the new youthful face of the company. This was just the first of many appearances that would make Orville a recognizable face to the right circles.

In other words, Orville had a big future in front of him. He just didn't know if he wanted it.

Tag: All